


Secrets and Snowflakes

by eltanin-malfoy (GammaDraconis)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Canon Compliant, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Other, Reader-Insert, Secrets, Snow, Snowball Fight, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:09:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21954181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GammaDraconis/pseuds/eltanin-malfoy
Summary: You threw the ball of snow you’d managed to make forward, but instead of hitting his chest, as you’d wanted to, it hits his arm. In retrospect, this was probably more advisable. Draco jumped where he stood, letting out a squeal. “What the fuck ?” He shoved the parchment into his anorak’s pocket haphazardly and looked down at you, eyebrows crinkled and forehead deeply furrowed. He brought his hand up and set it on the now wet part of his coat.orDraco's a bit of a Scrooge and you want to teach him how snowball fights are far from kiddish.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader, Draco Malfoy/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47
Collections: 2019 Draco/Reader Secret Santa Fic Exchange





	Secrets and Snowflakes

‘ _A tall blonde leans back into the emerald-dyed leather of the sofa he is parked on, right opposite the burning embers in the fireplace before him. His face is terrifyingly gaunt, characteristic of a beast who’s been running on empty for long enough, or on the blood of his enemies, rather. He is ridiculously rapt in writing on the parchment he seems to be clutching onto for dear life, the exquisite quill in his hand seeming to rattle off in rapid speed, ink leaving lines that were barely legible._ ’

Goddammit. This situation was dull even as you tried your best to interpret it interestingly. If only real life was some sort of mystery and Draco was a contract killer, detailing a plan for his next ordered murder. But no, he was too fainthearted to ever get up to something like that. Perhaps it would be more pleasant if this was a tale set in the sixteenth century and he was inditing a letter proclaiming his affection for his beloved. Then again, that wouldn’t be that much fun, considering his beloved was sitting right beside him, mortifyingly bored. 

He was the only one actually engaged in doing something other than people watching (or maybe _person_ watching would fit more, in this context). But what even was it he was so engrossed in writing? What kind of work was he so interested in that he’d even ignore his lovely in the secluded common room for it? You leaned over to peak at it. 

But, eh, Draco was as secretive as ever. He immediately folded the pages in his lap, covering any text which was still visible with those large hands of his. You rolled your eyes at him and he grit his teeth, seemingly in defence, but his expression soon softened. “Some privacy, please.” He uttered, lowering his glance tentatively, then returning to his work.

You huffed and sat upright again, almost wishing the sofa would just swallow you outright. Maybe that would make things a bit more interesting. You wondered whether Draco would even try to save you, or whether he would just sit the way he was, scribbling away about Merlin knows what. Draco certainly wasn’t going to change up the situation on his own accord. So, you began to think it would be wise to switch things up, or at least try to.

“ _Draco_ ~” You slinked over towards him, bringing your arms underneath his own and coiling them around his waist. He glanced to the side and folded the sheets of paper in his lap again, but slower this time. “Mhm?” He managed out, tucking them into his pocket and in a sudden act of warmth, turning to face you and placing his hands on yours. 

“Why are we just sitting like this?” He narrowed his eyes. “Would you rather we stand?” He drawled out, then let his lips quirk up in the slightest of smiles. “That’s not what I mean…” You leaned over to press a kiss to the side of his mouth. “We’re supposed to be spending time together, and you’re just working. Or, like, whatever you’re doing. I don’t have a clue, it’s not like you’re ready to share it with me.” He sighed and rested his head over yours, shrugging and suddenly making you aware of how tense his body was, even in your grasp.

“You know I’m busy.”

“Yeah, on something you can’t even tell me about.”

“It’s just… with Father off.. and mum, you know how she is.”

“Yeah, she loves you so much she had you stay at Hogwarts for Christmas.”

“Y/N, no. It’s just... a thing, alright. It’s just not easy to explain.”

“You always say that!”

“Because it’s always true! It’s not like I made you stay here with me. Maybe you sh-”  
“Calm down. I-I don’t want to have a fight with you on Christmas Eve.”

He nodded and gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing uncertainly. You sat in silence for a few moments, letting your gaze drift down and take him in. What little of his skin you could see in that cable-knit black sweater of his was still that light tone of greige you’d grown used to by this point. He’d blamed it on getting a sunburn in the summer, but now that it had stayed unchanged for so many months, you’d understood that he’d lied. It’s not like you hadn’t asked him why he looked so very... different from how you’d last seen him the year before, but he’d asked you for some space, and for some reason, you’d decided to give him that much. Surely, having your father imprisoned (in Azkaban, that too) meant you’d need that much. Or at least, you thought so. 

“Draco.”  
“Yes?”  
“Why do you look like you’re about to attend a funeral?”

He smiled at that. Genuinely. Even the reddened skin beneath his eyes crinkled slightly at it. 

“Shut up.” 

“No, seriously.”

“It’s just… my taste in fashion. What am I supposed to say?”  
“Your taste in fashion is funeral clothing?”

“You know what? Maybe it is.” 

His chest heaved slightly and you realised he was laughing. At your awful, awful joke. Such a sweetheart. You kissed his cheek, taking advantage of the lack of other Slytherins around, at least at the moment.

“Oh, come on. It’s nearly Christmas! You’re supposed to look a little bit merrier than that!”

“Christmas themed clothing isn’t really my forte.”  
“Fine, but you look like you’re literally en route to a funeral. Scribbling out a eulogy even.”

“I can live with that.”

“Fine!”

You giggled and nuzzled his neck, inhaling deeply. He’d stopped smelling as expensive as he used to and you weren’t exactly sure why. But then again, you could guess. You supposed it didn’t really matter. The Slytherin common room felt a little bit homely like this, with the two of you all alone and in love. You looked at the fire, then back up at him. His eyelids were shut, and he’d only now begun to relax.

“We should do something together. Something festive and romantic.”

“Y/N… I’m not going to lie to you. I’m not exactly in the mood for _that_ at the moment.”

“Ugh, you’re disgusting. That wasn’t what I was implying in the first place, pervert.”

“Then what were you implying?”

“A walk.”  
“What, when it’s so cold and snowy out?”  
“Hey. For the sake of romance, alright? And it’s not even that bad. It’s pleasant. It’s so pretty out.”

“Please, for me?”

He opened his eyes and tilted his head to face you the best he could. He bit down on his lower lip, pearly whites almost complementing the pallor of his lips. He shut his eyes again, fair lashes brushing against his cheekbones, before he opened them up again, grey eyes dilated and almost woozy.  
  
“Alright, I suppose. Where do you want to walk to?”

“Hogsmeade.”

***

“It’s cold.”  
“Yeah, no shit.”

You held his gloved hand as little snowflakes rained down on you. Draco pulled the hood of his brown parka ( _definitely_ a gift from his mum) over his head and scrunched his nose, looking up at the sky in concentration. His cheeks, and even his nose, were flushed, a dusty rose thanks to the cold. _God_ , he was so adorable. Even while he looked unhealthily pale.

“The things you do for love, I suppose.”  
“Uh, yes, of course. Can’t you handle a little chill? ‘S not that bad.”  
“... I like the warm weather a little more, you know that.” 

It was almost ironic coming from him, an extremely pale person who could get sunburnt within seconds. Sometimes you really wondered what he’d gotten up to during his holidays. You knew he’d visited some part of Asia before on vacation, but other than that, did he just loiter around his estate? He’d probably gotten up to a little less mischief this time, though, what with his father-

“You know,”

“No, I don’t.”  
“You know, it’s not awful.”  
“Did you think it would be awful? You’d still be out with me, right?”  
“Eh, only makes it a little bit better.”  
He smirked but gulped again, the curl of his lips more nervous than anything else. He squeezed your hand but looked away again, his gaze oddly distant.

“Are you alright?”  
“‘Course.”

You looked out at the cotton white expanses of land near you, right at the outskirts of Hogsmeade. And very suddenly, a very devious train of thought hit you. You bit your lip and fixed up the beanie over top of your head, pulling it down tightly to cover your ears and whatever other skin it possibly could. You pulled your hand away from his and pulled the hems of your sleeves up to cover what little of the skin of your wrists was exposed. 

“Are you cold?”  
“No, not really.”  
“Hm.. alright. We can go for a hot chocolate if you like.”

“No.. I’m more in the mood for some snow.”  
“Um.. sure, I suppose I don’t mind.”

Draco turned to the side and put his hand in his pocket, taking out the same parchment again. And then you knew, it was definitely appropriate to take action. You knelt to the ground and carefully reached for the ground, balling up some snow in your fist. You were thankful you had gloves on because even with them on, you could already feel them getting damp. The slight breeze and the tiny little snowflakes blowing past you obviously weren’t helping.

You shivered and looked towards the lanky boy who’d come with you, but he was clearly absorbed with whatever was written on the paper in his hands. “You know, I should’ve made you leave those behind.” He shuffled slightly and swallowed again. “Hm? What?” He kept looking down. You stood up and shook your head. He deserved this, didn’t he?

You threw the ball of snow you’d managed to make forward, but instead of hitting his chest, as you’d wanted to, it hits his arm. In retrospect, this was probably more advisable. Draco jumped where he stood, letting out a squeal. “What the _fuck_?” He shoved the parchment into his anorak’s pocket haphazardly and looked down at you, eyebrows crinkled and forehead deeply furrowed. He brought his hand up and set it on the now wet part of his coat.“Oh, come on, Draco. It’s just a bit of fun.”

“ _This_ is fun? Are you actually twelve years old?”

“Draco! You can have a snowball fight at any age.”  
“Yes, and be childish!”  
“You say that, but I know how competitive you are.”  
“What? I won’t do something so... immature, though.”

You wiggled your eyebrows at him and he just rolled his eyes. He looked to the side and shrugged his shoulders, stretching out each of his limbs one by one. You then took the liberty to lean down and throw a snowball at his back. He moaned in surprise, stumbling on his feet. “Merlin, you know what!”  
He turned and faced you, hands on his hips. “It’s on.” He bent over and balled up a handful of snow himself, but of course, you were a step ahead of him. “ _Protego_!” You called out, your wand drawn as the translucent shield manifested itself in front of you. 

“Hey! That’s cheating!”  
“All’s fair in-”  
“Shut up. This is unfair! I didn’t even get the chance to do that myself. Come on.”  
“Dr-”  
“Be a sport, come on.”

You sighed and put your wand away, the barrier in front of you fading away as Draco aimed for the front of your body. Ouch! Oh, this was war, and you were _so_ ready.

***

Here you were, nearly twenty minutes later, crouching by the ground together. Tears (? or maybe it was just melted snow?) were dripping down your cheeks, your lungs practically about to burst while the two of you were probably laughing harder than you had in ages. The colour on his cheeks really suited him and you couldn’t help but wonder why you hadn’t seen it in so long. You crept closer to him and put your arms around his shoulders.

“You look so happy.” Peck. “I missed this.”

“Spending time together? But we always do that.”  
“Yeah, but.. you’re always preoccupied. You’re either just working on something else at the same time, or just… thinking about something else.”  
“I’m sorry, but you know how it is… with my father.”  
“I know, but, you don’t even talk to me about it.”

“I… I can’t-”  
“You know you can tell me anything.”

“No, I know, it’s just that... I can’t.”

“Why not? You act as if you’re on some secret mission or something.”  
“What?!” Blood rushed to his face.

“I-I mean, you’re always so secretive about everything you’re doing. You say it’s just… extra _prefect_ duties but I don’t even see the others doing anything like it.”

“It’s really not-”

He pressed his lips together and just shook his head. That distinct greyish tinge to his skin was even more evident against the snow, you realised. What was up with him?

“Listen, it’s not worth getting into a fight over.. whatever this is. And you know everything I can even tell you. So, just-just remember… that I love you.”

“You can’t just silence me over this, but I suppose it can wait. I love you too.”  
  
And you pressed a kiss to his lips, soft and smiling and still stumped. The questions you’d been holding back for a long time were right at the surface now, you were too curious to leave them be. But you thought Christmas cheer was good enough a reason to withhold them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! Hopefully, this brightens up your Christmas! Please do let me know what you thought of this :)


End file.
